


Ianto

by nemo_baker



Series: Illusion Anxiety [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Cyberwoman, Fear, M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4521231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nemo_baker/pseuds/nemo_baker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The members of the Torchwood team are forced to face some of their deepest fears when an alien takes up residence in the Cardiff sewers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ianto

**Author's Note:**

> make sure to read Premise (part 1 of this series) first to help understand what’s going on, and after that you can read in any order you choose!

The sounds of traffic from the street above faded as Ianto made his way further from the manhole. Water at the bottom of the tunnel sloshed noisily against his shoes, and he grimaced as the dampness seeped into his socks. With a soft click, his torch flickered to life. He saw the cavernous passageway looming ahead of him and sighed resignedly.

Reading over the victim’s statements before he’d left the Hub had convinced him this mission wouldn’t be as easy as Jack claimed. The few people that had gone into depth about their experiences had described some horrible, twisted things. Images that they could never unsee burned into their minds. Voices that filtered through their thoughts and drove them to temporary insanity.

One had described it as their own personalized hell.

“Yeah, I definitely recognize this,” Jack had said, flipping through the reports. “They’re these things that produce a hallucinogen to use against predators. Their defense mechanism is to incite fear.”

Naturally, the rest of the team had been a bit worried at that pronouncement. Ianto had to admit, it was a bit too horror-movie-esque for his taste. And yet, he couldn’t muster any actual fear. Probably because he already knew what he would see, if the creature tried to conjure a hell for him.

The narrow, leaking pipes that ran near the ceiling dripped steadily onto the path. Ianto heard the falling droplets as beats against his skull. There were multiple leaks, with rhythms that jarred each other and kept him off balance. Prevented him from establishing equilibrium. The brick walls surrounding him amplified every sound, so that even his breath seemed deafening. The fabric of his shirt dragged far too audibly against his skin when he moved to redirect the torchlight. He wondered how his ears hadn’t begun to bleed.

A slow-burning apprehension settled in his chest as he continued to anticipate, and dread, the one sound he did expect to hear. He almost wished the creature would find him already, so the waiting could end. Then, maybe, the clatter of pebbles bouncing off of stone would hold less malice. The moan of the stressed pipes would no longer be a warning.

Finally, from behind him came the unmistakable grating of metal limbs. He refused to turn around as it grew closer, knowing he’d been right. He didn’t need to see her to prove it.

“Hello, Lisa,” he said.

She didn’t reply, and he breathed a small sigh of relief at not having to hear her distorted, inhuman voice. He continued to walk forward, testing to see if she would follow.

Unfortunately, the apparition refused to leave him in peace. He kept his eyes forward, and swallowed against the lump rising in his throat.

“I know you’re not really her. Aren’t people meant to wake up from dreams, when they realize that’s what they are?”

Again there was no answer, and so he gave up. Pointing the light at the floor, he caught sight of a luminescent trail in the water. Probably left by the creature as it moved, he realized as he followed it. He steadfastly tried to block out the sounds of mechanical movements, which bounced off of the walls and pierced him like knives.

His muted footfalls were completely covered by her reverberating steps, and his body tensed further with every passing moment. He knew how close he’d been to having those steps become his own, remembered being strapped into a Conversion Unit and staring up at the spinning blades in absolute terror.

The memory distracted him enough that he lost grip on his torch, and it tumbled to the ground.

He stopped and reached down to pick it up, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Lisa had kept walking. He closed his eyes as her feet moved around him, and he determined that she’d come to stand in his path.

Apparently he would have to face her after all. He stood reluctantly and looked up.

And his entire world was upended.

“No!”

The person encased in the unyielding, metal body wasn’t Lisa.

“No, no, no, no, no.”

It was Jack.

“Please, no.”

Jack’s eyes, usually lively and warm when they met Ianto’s were cold and emotionless. Devoid of any trace of the man he knew. It was wrong, so damned wrong that he couldn’t comprehend it. There was no time to register his grip on reality slipping, because it was gone the moment he’d recognized the face in front of him.

“I can’t–not you. Not _you_.”

Tears gathered in Ianto’s eyes and his breath became ragged as the monster continued to stare soullessly. Never in his life had Jack looked at him with such disdain. Ianto felt small and helpless and alone.

_“Ready for an upgrade, Ianto Jones?”_

“Don’t say that!” Ianto shouted.

_“You could be like me. Shiny and new, human-point-two.”_

Ianto looked around frantically, unable cope. “Stop it, just stop this. I know you want to scare me but leave him out of it. Leave Jack alone.”

_“Jack is gone.”_

“This isn’t real.”

_“Jack is gone.”_

“Please, stop.”

_“And where does that leave you, Ianto?”_

With a harsh cry, Ianto flung his torch at the image of the Cyberman. It flew past his target and hit the wall. The sound of shattering glass and plastic resounded through the tunnel, and the pieces cascaded to the ground. The hallucination disappeared as Ianto watched the broken bits bounce into the groundwater with a series of small ‘plops’.

What followed was the loudest silence he had ever experienced. The cacophony of his thoughts was turbulent and terrible, and he couldn’t escape the crushing weight of what he’d seen. He wanted to run the remaining length of the tunnel, calling Jack’s name. He wanted to find the other man and assure himself that Jack was here. Alive. Human.

Instead, he bit back a sob and brought a hand up to wipe his eyes. He didn’t have time to fall apart.

There was still work to do. 


End file.
